Alice In the Nuthouse
by TheSoulMustStandAjar
Summary: Alice Liddel is being sent to a "hospital" to be helped to overcome delusions that have afflicted her for years but that she claims are memories of factual events. She doesn't realize until later that she's actually in an asylum, and no one believes her because they think she's crazy. This leaves Alice distraught until she meets some other patients and finds out she's not alone.


My name is Alice Pleasance Liddell. I'm fifteen years old. And apparently I'm crazy, or at least on my way to being crazy. I don't think I'm crazy. But my sister thinks I'm on my way. That's why I'm here.

I wasn't originally supposed to live here. When my strange dreams didn't stop, my sister started sending me to the hospital for therapy. My therapist is Jane Porter. I like Jane a lot. She's really nice, and she honestly wants to help me. I don't think I really need help, but oh well. Any way, I've been coming here on a weekly basis since I was about ten. I've been having these dreams since I was eight. I always tell my sister about them because they're interesting, but they're not dreams. They're memories. I always tried to tell my sister that, but she never believed me. That's the problem when you're a child; no one believes you, even when you're truthful. They take your wild stories, no matter how true, and hear them as pure imagination. Then you grow up a little and they decide that your dreams might be dangerous delusions. In a few short years, you can go from being an imaginative child to a looney in the eyes of your family.

I just think that's strange.

Any way, it was recently decided that therapy wasn't helping me. I don't know how it was supposed to help; Did they want me to forget about my incredible adventures? Do they think my memories are a threat? They don't bother me at all. I've just always thought that they make for interesting conversation at breakfast. But apparently no one agrees with me, no matter how much I insist that I'm fine and that these memories really happened and I like them and there's nothing wrong with that. I guess constantly disagreeing with them about the state of my mind didn't really help my case. Adults don't like it when you disagree, but I've always been too stubborn for my own good. I suppose I should have just played along if I didn't want to be sent here. But I don't mind. I kind of like it here. I'll only be here for a few months, any way. And at least I'll get to miss schooling.

Jane's friendly face was the first one I saw when I got here on that first afternoon. She carried my suitcase for me. If it was heavy, I wouldn't have let her carry it, but I didn't pack much since I knew I wouldn't be here long. Jane was positively cheerful as she took me on a tour of the hospital. It actually doesn't look like a hospital, or feel like one. It doesn't smell like one, either. Not that this place has a distinctive smell, though it is a little stuffy here. It just doesn't smell like I remember hospitals smelling when I would visit my father as a child. And when I say it doesn't _feel _like a hospital, I'm referring to how hospitals are places where people go to get better. This place doesn't feel like that.

Although, some people don't get better in hospitals. Father didn't. Neither did mother.

I shook this off quickly, figuring that I was just being silly. After all, things are never as they seem. And who am I to dictate how a hospital should look or smell or feel? I've always known that I think about and see things differently than most people do. So my opinions of how this place should or shouldn't be probably aren't correct and therefore don't matter. Still, I can't help but let my mind wander as it usually does while I look around the dreary corridors with a critical eye, continuing to think to myself about how this place should be as I remembered.

Though I suppose my memory might not be incredibly reliable. It's been called into question a lot, as you know. A lot of people seem to think my memories are totally inaccurate. But I think I'm right.

Any way, the hospital is huge; all maze - like corridors with the same pale walls and dim grey tile. I bet all the rooms look the same, too. I don't know how I'm going to manage not getting lost in this place. It's going to be fun, I think. I just need to treat navigating these winding halls like an adventure. As long as I can find the dining hall, I'll be able to get my bearings.

I suppose I should bring up the most interesting thing about this place: the other patients. It's kind of funny to think of myself as a patient, but I digress. These people are much more peculiar than me, I think. Jane walked me by a lot of their rooms as she showed me around, thinking it was a good idea for me to know who was where and be aware of the people around me at any time. And if I need help, any of the less afflicted patients can assist me. She mentioned a few names to me, but didn't introduce me to anyone, which seems strange. And she only gave me a vague idea about why any of them were here, so I'll have to take it upon myself to find out what their real stories are. Also, Jane informed me that all the "dangerous" patients are being kept on the second floor, away from the rest of us. This was most upsetting to hear, since those would be the people I'm most curious to meet. I suppose I'll just have to sneak up there at some point.

Any way, I've been here almost a week, and still haven't met any of the other patients. Jane has introduced me to the other doctors and some security, but her face is the only one I've become familiar with as of yet. If things keep on like this, I don't know how I could possibly be able to keep myself from dying of boredom.


End file.
